i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
At some point I made a semi-conscious decision that i was okay with sleeping in my own vomit.
opening your purse in class to grab a pen only to find dollar bills and pink fuzzy handcuffs instead...that's a cool feeling
i upgraded from drunk texts to drunk e-mails...real world here i come
i woke up this morning next to my toilet covered in an attempt to make blanket of toilet paper
I just got licked by a stripper, not so great anymore.
I have a king size bed, I guarantee multiple orgasms, and I'll give you a ride home in the morning. Respond quickly.
There will always be a place in my black heart for him because he gave me my first sex-induced orgasm. While you slept on the bunk above.
In the mean time, I'll continue to kick ass at running and become a successful stripper while he might hook up with one average looking girl he met at a club. I so win.
Can you not touch my dick while I'm holding a gecko?
That moment when I wear the same thing I did to a motel nooner to my family's Christmas party... Ho Hoety Ho bitches
I have 2 voicemails from u last night. one of them is just 5 min of u saying "doodling"...
My diet fell off the wagon when I began texting the pizza delivery guy my location on frat row.
All I remember is you shouting "THIS KID IS A FREAKIN' NINJA!!" when he dive rolled over a barbed wire fence and proceeded to ask for his 18th beer.
Longest 30 seconds of my life
10/10 so not recommended
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